


cardiovascular endurance and the art of recovery

by lgbtrobed



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, References to Past Bullying, implied depression/anxiety, references s01e11: the politics of human sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27564127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lgbtrobed/pseuds/lgbtrobed
Summary: Troy finds out how Abed got so athletic.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 35
Kudos: 165





	cardiovascular endurance and the art of recovery

**Author's Note:**

> about [that one tumblr post](https://lgbtrobed.tumblr.com/post/634782429630054400/lgbtrobed-lgbtrobed-have-we-talked-about-how-a) i made yesterday

_It’s unreasonably hot today, even for early June. The sweltering sun beats down on his neck and shoulders as he sprints around the back of the gas station, towards the alley that cuts right through to downtown. His jaw clenches when he sees that the gate is locked today. Of course it is; that’s just his luck. He doesn’t have time to stop and catch his breath, though he’d really like to. The shouting and the sound of sneakers pounding the pavement behind him gives him another shot of adrenaline and he shrugs his backpack off of his shoulders, chucking it over the top of the gate. It just barely clears. Then he jumps up as high as he can, tightly gripping the rusty metal bars and starting to climb. A bottle shatters at his feet just as he does— crap. That means they’re really close._

_If he just makes it over the gate, he’ll probably be fine. They usually don’t bother trying to hop over it after him, and even if they do, the main street is usually crowded enough that they can’t get away with doing anything too bad._

_He squeezes his eyes shut and summons another burst of energy, scrambling up and over the top of the gate and then dropping down. His shirtsleeve catches on a ragged bit of metal and tears as he does, but he doesn’t care; he just snatches his backpack up off of the ground and keeps running._

_The falafel shop is just at the end of the street. He doesn’t hear anyone chasing after him anymore but he doesn’t slow down, just in case. By the time he bursts through the front door, the bell jingling loudly as he does, he’s panting so hard that his throat and chest are burning from the effort and he feels sick to his stomach. His head is spinning and the inside of his mouth tastes like blood._

_The shop is empty. That’s bad for the business, but lucky for him. The customers usually don’t appreciate a panicked, sweaty 13-year-old interrupting their lunch with such a dramatic entrance._

_“You’re late,” his father’s voice pipes up from behind the counter. His back is turned as he stands over the deep-fryer, which is hopefully sizzling loud enough that it drowns out how heavily he’s breathing. “It’s 3:25. I told you to be here at 3:15.”_

_He doesn’t sound mad—or at least not any madder than usual. Mostly he just sounds tired._

_“I’m sorry, baba,” Abed manages with a relatively stable sigh. His dad hasn’t turned around, so he takes the opportunity to shake out his arms and hands, hoping to dispel some of the tremulous energy that’s still pumping hard and fast through his veins. “I just wanted to stop at the comic book store. It won’t happen again.”_

_That’s not technically a lie; he did want to stop at the comic book store. He just didn’t expect the guys from school to follow him there and jump him when he walked out. His dad must know that; Abed sees the way he examines him carefully when he finally does turn to face him, wiping his hands down the front of his apron. But he doesn’t ask him why he looks like such a mess. He doesn’t have to._

_“Go wash your hands and then start chopping,” he instructs him. His tone is still stern, but not as harsh as before, which is about as good as it gets. Abed nods and tightly clutches the straps of his backpack as he heads back behind the counter and into the kitchen._

_He doesn’t go over to the sink like he’s supposed to, though. He keeps going all the way back to the walk-in fridge, where he closes the door tightly behind him and drops his backpack down on the floor. Then he goes into his corner, leaning back against the wall and sliding down until he’s sitting, eyes closed and head between his knees._

Lewis Wilson, _he thinks with a deep breath._ Robert Lowery. Adam West. 

_His sweaty shirt is cold against his back, but he does his best to block out the chill, because that’s not a priority at the moment._

_Just breathe. And keep breathing._

Michael Keaton. Kevin Conroy. Val Kilmer. 

_His heartbeat very, very gradually begins to slow back down._

George Clooney.

_Then he starts it over._

Lewis Wilson, Robert Lowery, Adam West, Michael Keaton, Kevin Conroy, Val Kilmer, George Clooney. _Over again, and over again, while he waits for his body to regulate itself._

_Every actor that’s ever played Batman. His dad helped him come up with that one and he has yet to find a soothing technique that works better, even though this one isn’t perfect. It’s working okay right now._

Lewis Wilson, Robert Lowery, Adam West, Michael Keaton, Kevin Conroy, Val Kilmer, George Clooney. 

_He breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, deep and even._

Christian Bale. 

_That’s not for another year. Abed hasn’t decided yet when he’s going to add him into the rotation. He feels like he should probably wait until the movie’s actually out._

June 25, 2005. Batman Begins. Directed by Christopher Nolan, starring Christian Bale as Batman. 

_It feels like a long way away, but maybe that’s good._

_Maybe he needs something to look forward to._

  
  


“Abed,” a voice rings out behind him. He’s running, sprinting, the cold air stinging his cheeks and making his eyes water. He doesn’t remember where he is or what he’s running from, but that just means he should probably keep going, and fast.

“Abed,” the voice comes again. It sounds distant. “Abed, hey! We already finished, where are you going?”

The voice does sound familiar, and it doesn’t sound angry or mean. Before he can decipher anything else though, someone’s grabbing at the back of his shoulders and turning him around. His body seizes up and he stumbles back a few steps just when his eyes land on who’s actually behind him. 

“Abed,” Troy’s panting, doubled over with his hands on his knees. Abed blinks hard a couple times, hoping that’ll clear some of the fuzz from his vision and his mind.

Troy. It’s just Troy.

“That was it,” Troy gasps out, very clearly trying to sound like he’s not about to cough up a lung right now. “Two miles, that was the last lap. Did you lose count?”

Abed blinks again.

They’re at Greendale. They’re outside, on the track. It’s getting dark. He promised Troy that he’d run as fast as he could, that he wouldn’t let him win. That’s how they work out now. Troy says he’ll never get better if Abed goes easy on him. He supposes that’s true. Troy caught him just now; he definitely couldn’t have done that a year ago. That means he’s getting faster. 

Why did he sound so far away before, then, if he was actually that close behind?

Troy’s looking at him expectantly, and a little worriedly, which makes him realize he hasn’t answered. 

“Yeah,” he shakes his head a little. “I lost track, sorry. I was having a—” he pauses momentarily and then shakes his head again when he draws a blank on how to explain what just happened. “...Never mind. Hey, you caught me. Nice job.”

“Thanks,” Troy wheezes. 

It takes him a few more minutes to catch his breath, so Abed uses that time to try and ground himself. _Lewis Wilson, Robert Lowery, Adam West, Michael Keaton, Kevin Conroy, Val Kilmer, George Clooney, Christian Bale._

When Troy finally straightens up and reaches out for him, he feels a little bit more down to earth. He reaches back and laces their fingers together. 

“Car,” Troy says, already tugging him in the direction of the parking lot. “It’s freezing out here.”

Abed follows him obediently, looking down at their joined hands as he does. Troy’s fingers are cold, and so are his, but there’s a subtle warmth growing where their palms are pressed together that’s a small comfort. 

It doesn’t take long to reach the car and when they do, Troy only sits in the driver’s side for a brief moment to turn on the ignition and the heat before stepping back out and getting in the backseat. Abed, still poised to get into the passenger seat, tilts his head in confusion. 

“I’m too tired to drive now,” Troy explains, and holds his arms out. “I just need a few minutes. Come here.”

Abed complies right away, shutting the passenger door and diving into the backseat instead. 

The engine hasn’t warmed up yet, so he nuzzles right up to Troy, curling up and wrapping his arms around him when Troy does the same. Gradually, the air blowing from the vents shifts from cool to warm and warm to hot, making them both shudder as they start to thaw out. Troy chuckles a little. 

“Maybe we should start running inside until the spring,” he suggests. “The indoor track kind of smells like burnt scrambled eggs but it’s probably better than dying from…” Troy trails off, brows furrowing in concentration as he searches his brain for the word. He doesn’t find it apparently, because he finishes, “...That freezing thingy.”

“Hypothermia,” Abed supplies. 

Troy nods. “Hypothermia.”

“Sounds good,” Abed shrugs. “Running inside, I mean. The whole school kind of smells like burnt scrambled eggs anyway.”

Troy kisses him lightly. “Cool.”

For a while, they stay just like that, tucked into the corner of the backseat with the warm air drifting out of the heater and winding around them like an invisible blanket. It’s nice. Troy seems to think it’s nice, too; he sighs sweetly, eyes fluttering shut as he rests his head down on Abed’s shoulder.

“What were you having before?” He asks after a few quiet minutes. 

It takes Abed a second to register that Troy is talking to him again. He’s been too busy watching him and studying how dark and curly his eyelashes are, fanned out under his bottom lashline. But then he opens his eyes and Abed realizes. He stiffens a little bit in case Troy is asking what he thinks he’s asking. 

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Before, when you said you lost track of how many laps we did,” Troy says. “You said you were having a—… and then you cut yourself off. Are you okay?”

Okay. So he is asking about that.

“Yeah,” Abed shrugs, “I’m fine.”

Because he is. He’s fine now. He’s comfortable and warm and cuddled up to his best-friend-turned-boyfriend, the one person who makes him happier than anyone else in the world. So he feels perfectly alright now. 

He just didn’t before. 

_Friends don’t lie to each other,_ he reminds himself as Troy gives him a measuring look.

“I was just having this… weird memory,” he explains. “I guess I just zoned out and got lost in it. It’s no big deal.”

Troy shifts to sit up a little straighter. “What kind of memory? A bad one?”

Abed thinks that over for a moment. “Well,” he says eventually. “It wasn’t a good one.”

Troy raises an eyebrow at him. It’s the face he makes when he wants Abed to explain something, but he’s not sure if he should ask. 

He decides to just tell him.

“I was remembering this one time I got chased after school,” he says as flatly as he can. “I skipped out early so I could stop at the comic book store before I had to go to the restaurant. Some guys from my school followed me there. I don’t know how they even found out I was going. I guess one of them saw me leave.”

He stops talking to check Troy’s expression. He’s frowning, but he doesn’t look overly upset, so Abed decides to go on. “Anyway, I was usually ready for these guys to chase me after school, but this time I wasn’t expecting them at the store and they jumped me when I walked out. So it scared me. I got away, though. So it’s fine.”

“That’s not fine, Abed,” Troy says quietly, and now he _does_ look overly upset. Crap, he must’ve misjudged his expression before. He mentally scolds himself, but tries to keep his focus mostly on Troy. His eyes are big and sad, head tilted a little to the side. “Did that happen to you a lot?”

“Pretty much every day,” he says. He speaks a little bit more carefully now. “But, you know, not anymore. No one chases me anymore, except you when we’re playing Space Tag. So everything’s okay now.”

He tries evaluating Troy’s expression again. He’s still frowning pretty hard, but he’s also nodding minutely. Abed decides to give him a minute; he looks like he’s trying to think. He looks out the window behind him while he does. One of the lights in the parking lot is flickering.

“That’s how you got so fast,” Troy says eventually. His voice is small, and still sad.

“Hm?” Abed asks, and Troy shakes his head to himself a little more aggressively. 

“That’s how you got so fast,” Troy repeats, looking into his eyes. “Because you were always running away from people. That’s it, isn’t it?” He purses his lips, almost like he’s annoyed at himself for the realization. “Remember all those sports competitions I made you do with me last year? And I was so pissy that you were better than me, but it’s because…” his eyes look a little wet as he swallows thickly, “It’s because you got bullied so bad, isn’t it? You had to be strong and fast so that you could fight them or run away.”

“...Oh,” Abed says quietly. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds really sad.”

“It _is_ really sad, Abed!” Troy replies, sounding genuinely distressed. “It _is_ really sad, what you had to go through. I can’t believe I didn’t put it together before.”

Abed doesn’t really know what to say to that. He watches Troy draw his knees up to his chest and rest his chin down on them before whispering a soft, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Abed reaches out and takes one of Troy’s hands again, tugging a little until they’re sitting close again, and then Troy’s arms wrap around him. It’s one of his protective hugs. “You didn’t do anything,” he adds, relaxing in his hold and resting his hands lightly on Troy’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t be sorry.”

“I just wish I knew you then,” Troy sighs. “I wish we went to the same school. I would’ve beaten anyone up who tried to mess with you.”

His tone and his expression are so stubborn that Abed has to smile a little, brushing one of his thumbs lightly over Troy’s cheek. 

“No you wouldn’t,” he says softly. “You’re a lover, not a fighter.” 

Troy gives him a serious look. “I would’ve fought for you,” he says immediately. 

“I know,” Abed says, because he does believe him. Troy would do anything for him, just like he’d do anything for Troy. That’s why they’re so good together. “Thanks. But no one would’ve been trying to mess with me if I were best friends with Troy Barnes. You were the cool guy at your school, remember?”

Troy nods slowly. “I really want to think I would’ve been nice to you,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “I was so worried about being popular back then, it made me kind of a jerk. But you showed me it didn’t have to be like that. I want to think that would’ve happened if we met earlier, too. I hate thinking that a different version of me might’ve been mean to you.”

Abed doesn’t like the thought of that, either—the infinite parallel universes where they never ended up being friends, much less boyfriends. He dislikes it so much that he wants to shake it away as soon as possible. 

“We should let the Troy-and-Abeds in the other timelines deal with that,” he says definitively. “In this one, we met exactly when we were supposed to. I think that’s pretty great.”

Troy’s mouth turns up into a small smile, too. “Better than pretty great,” he says, eyes flickering down from Abed’s eyes to his lips. “It’s awesome.” 

And because Abed knows he’s planning on it, he shifts forward and catches Troy’s mouth in a slow, sweet kiss. 

“Home?” He asks when they break for air, and Troy hums affirmatively even as he’s pulling him back in again.

Okay. Home can wait a little while longer. 

As he settles into the kiss again, arms sliding around Troy’s shoulders, he thinks there’s no way they’re not living in the best possible timeline right now. Young Abed, even in all the simulations he’d run, never would’ve guessed it. But the simulations aren't perfect and for once, he's actually happy about that.

Turns out, he really did have something to look forward to.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> i crave validation in the form of comments ❤️
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @[lgbtrobed](https://lgbtrobed.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [[reblog link](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/lgbtrobed/634797014886105088)]


End file.
